


Sea Salt

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Angst, M/M, a sailor is haunted by a siren, fundream, fundywastaken, fwt, sailor!fundy, siren!dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29664972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Tell me, dear, is this what you bestow on all of your victims? Or does this make me different?"Fundy listened to the sea, quiet, as per usual.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

_“Do I dare address this to you? You were a ghost, doubletake, a candle with a long diminished wick. Oh, to see you burn and light the sails in your gorgeous flame. You spark a feeling, an action, a yell that leaves my voice hoarse. You are a spark. Each move you make, others around you collapse like a house of cards. I’m sure you’ve figured out who this is by now.”_

The air outside rumbled with thunder. In the quiet of the creaking and rocking wooden boat, delicate hands scratched their inked words to the parchment. With a candle that happened to only illuminate centimeters in radius, the man only hoped his writing was legible. 

_“I know I spoke ill of your song, but it dug its way through my ears. Steadily. I carry on my duties everyday, sure that you’re oceans away. But tell me why I still hear your voice? It haunts me like a recurring dream…”_

The quill stopped. Eyes carefully read each word, each syllable. It was all wrong. He dropped the writing utensil and pushed the papers to the floor. His seat let out a screech when he scooted the chair back. Fingers raking through his hair, a steady breath coming through. Another crack of thunder was heard beyond the room.

He lifted the old coat that lay often forgotten on the back of the chair, one arm through and then the other. In one hand, he took the candle in its copper hold. The other reached for the latch on the door, fumbling with the lock and feeling the cold burst through, immediately, the weather from the outside's harsh gust. 

He reached out for the walls, the boat teased to almost tip to the side. He gripped the railings, stumbling and climbing his way to the bow. The candle slipped from his grip, to which he wasn't worried, the spray from the sea had made it’s fire die. 

The vessel groaned and the man's feet grew soaked at the wave that crashed into him from the front. He nearly fell back, slipping and blindly searching the railing. He saved himself, gasping and out of breath. 

_“I don’t do this for you,”_ he said out loud. _“To hum your tune to pass the time. To save myself. You lure me like a fish in the water. Hooked and caught. Please release me from your hold, I only beg this of you now.”_

Now, hands gripped on each side as he held himself upright with the shaking boat. He glared ahead at the crashing tsunamis. Strands of hair dripped wet. All his clothes soaked. Everything that could be dry later, forgotten, he screamed. Screamed towards the grey sky with flashing lights. Lightning screamed back.

_“I am alone, the universe my home. I stand dangerously close to the edge and let death dare if she wants me…”_

_“... but I wake up in the morning, still alone. With the mere thought of my undecided option, it makes me feel close to you. Tell me, dear, is this what you bestow on all of your victims? Or does this make me different? The waves are quiet…”_

He wondered when he woke up, why was he awake? Why did the sea whisper to him this day? Why not break and bruise him like it’s original purpose? Let him free. He knows that they watch. Perhaps not all hope is gone. Bring forth that warmth they had long ago.

He closed his eyes. Back pressed hard against the boards, the deck still soaked wet. He was tired. He threw his arm over his eyes and let the new brightness of the sun burn him. He was a deadman at sea anyways. 

_“Breathe for me, my love,”_ he would whisper. _“Take my voice, my heart, my soul. You’ve stolen my voyage already. Take what’s left, it’s all I offer.”_

The sails flapped in the wind. He cried. Tears mixing in with the salt on his cheeks, it dropped to his lips. He lifted a hand to wipe it away. He was a deadman.

 _“I dream,”_ he muttered to himself, a short chuckle escaped him. _“You know how it is. You gave me a taste and now I search for you.”_

_"Best regards, Fundy."_


	2. Chapter 2

“Has the end caught up to you, sailor?” Would be the words that broke him from his sleep. Soft hands petted his hair. It was a shadow over his vision.

Eyes open, still so tired, they squinted in the light day. He hummed setting his head back down against the deck, reaching up to meet their hand. 

“My angel,” he called for them.

“Your devil,” the shadow corrected. “Keep your eyes open, there’s a whole world to see.”

“We understand both nothing and everything about each other. I dare not shut my eyes when I’m casted upon this view. Oh, angel, you are my light, my fire, my burn.”

“I am your darkness, your death, your burn.”

Burn. He felt the burn of the sun on his skin. Hot and red. He fidgeted, the fingers under his own were frozen, cool, relief.

“You prove my point. How it must pain you to hear the words that I’m right.” 

“To a default… sit up my sailor, the sea’s rocky ahead.”

So they were true, by default. Vast cliffs and jagged slopes loomed over the horizon. The beating heat of the sun was interrupted by an icy chill down his spine. He sat up with a groan, rivaling the feeling of the previous night. Carefully and slowly adjusting to the sway of the boat, he walked over to the bow. A dip and he nearly fell back once again. Unpredictable, its currents.

Water beyond water, the waves broke. Splashes flew upon the deck. His shoes were drenched once again. A repetition he began to find. Le soleil, reflection against the water. A hypnotizing mirage he could stare at for hours. He would stare for hours. He’d be blind. 

Another plot to kill from the sea. 

“You’re in love with everything that hurts you,” they spoke softly. 

An interruption from the waves, their voice was. 

“How can someone so soft-spoken scare the ocean into silence? Should I fear you, my angel?”

“I am what you already fear, yet you love what can kill you. You scream to me on the most thunderous of nights, I listen, my sailor.”

“You never left?”

“I never came.”

“You know j’adore la mer.”

“I know you are broken. Live. If not for yourself, then for me.”

“For you,” he repeated to himself. He turned around to stare at the empty deck. He blinked away the imprint of the sun on his vision. Tilting his head, curiously. Just the empty company of a ship.

“I will meet you on the land, angel. Keep listening, please.”


End file.
